


Minnie

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kittens, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"<i>You got me a kitten.</i>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minnie

**Author's Note:**

> This was written at the request/bribery of Trisha and Mandy.

"Why are you covering my eyes?" Chris asks, trying hard to keep his voice flat and unamused but unable to keep the curiosity out of it completely.

"Because I have a surprise for you," Darren replies in a sing-song, and Chris might not be able to  _see_  it, but he knows that Darren is wearing that big, excited grin of his. Like _he’s_  the one about to get a surprise instead of Chris.

"We’re in my house," Chris states. Although that doesn’t really matter, not to Darren. He’s a surprise enthusiast, that’s not anything new, and the  _where_  of the surprise has never been an issue. Chris has come home to surprise dinners, picnics, bubble baths, _forts_.

It really was a good decision to give Darren a key.

” _Really?_ " Darren responds, still sounding excited even when he’s being sarcastic. Chris lets out a little laugh because, okay,  _yeah_ , that was a little unnecessary.

"Shut up," he retorts, anyway, even though there’s no heat behind his words.

"Tsk tsk, Christopher, is that really any way to speak to someone who is both bestowing on you a surprise  _and_  has your life in their hands?”

"How do you have my life in your— _son of a bitch_ ,” Chris hisses as he walks straight into a chair (at least, it felt like a chair, Chris can’t exactly  _see_  it). “That was uncalled for!”

Darren’s laughing, but then Chris can feel him move closer as they come to a halt, his chest pressed nearly against Chris’s back as his chin hooks over Chris’s shoulder.

"I’m sorry, baby, that was mean." Darren’s lip press right under Chris’s jaw in a quick, apologetic kiss. "But I’m about to give you a surprise and I  _think_  you’ll forgive me.”

Chris feels the bundle of anticipation in his stomach grow larger. 

It’s taken him a long time to get to this point with Darren. He’s not a fan of presents, or surprises, and being in love with Darren somehow entails both of those things. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the sentiment, he just… Gets gift guilt. Does that mean Darren is expecting gifts and surprises? What if Chris tries and fails? And what happens if Darren does something for him, or gets him something, and Chris doesn’t like it? Gift-giving is just an open invitation for anxiety.

So it had been a process, and Chris doesn’t know who exactly he needs to thank for Darren’s patience with him. There’s still that niggling sense of guilt sometimes, but Chris has learned (and Darren has been quick to reassure him) that a batch of cookies made with Darren in mind or Chris surprising him in the shower can quickly clear that up.

Now, when there’s a surprise hovering before him (one of  _Darren’s_  surprises), the anxiety isn’t there. It’s curiosity and excitement, the kind of childish feeling that makes him want to bounce on his toes and reminds him of how he feels right before he goes to Disneyland.

There’s no countdown, no sign that the surprise is about to happen, just Darren’s hands disappearing and Chris blinking his eyes open slowly to adjust to the sudden flood of light. They’re in the living room, and sitting on the coffee table is a box. It’s wrapped up like a Christmas present, with a big, grand bow on top, and Chris can tell just from looking at it that the top and bottom were wrapped separately.

He looks back at Darren with furrowed eyebrows, but Darren just bounces on his toes and says, “Open it.”

Surprises don’t normally come in boxes. Even when Darren insists on gifts, those gifts aren’t things that  _fit_  in a box, like a trip for two to a discrete spa upstate or a limo ride (for famous people, they don’t ride in limos half as often as they thought famous people did). Even if they are actual items, Darren hardly ever wraps them. So something is different here, Chris just isn’t sure what it is.

"I didn’t forget anything, did I?" Chris asks, staring at the box. It’s not their anniversary, right?

"What are you talking about?" Darren laughs. "Chris, just open the box. This is kind of time sensitive."

_Time sensitive?_

"What’s in there? Ice cream?" Chris walks toward it, and Darren makes an amused noise.

"Why don’t you open it and find out."

"If it’s time sensitive, maybe you should have packed it in a cooler instead of a— _oh_.” 

The top is off, dangling from his fingertips, and staring up at Chris from inside the box is a silver tabby kitten. It doesn’t meow, or even move very much, just stares up at him curiously for a few seconds before it starts to push its paws against the wall of the box, making it wobble. Before Chris can really think about it, he’s scooping the kitten up (it’s so  _tiny_ ), and it lets out a tiny meow of protest. 

"Oh my god," Chris whispers in shock, and when he turns around, Darren is giving him an unsure smile. "You got me a kitten?" Even as he asks, he brings the tiny body closer to his. The kitten resists at first, wiggling against his hold and twisting around until it can start to paw up his chest and toward his shoulder.

"Surprise?" Darren responds, hesitant, rocking a step forward. "You aren’t mad?"

"Mad? I—you got me a  _kitten_ ,” Chris replies, still dumbfounded by the fact even as he feels the fur and pad of a paw, and the slight prick of claws against the skin of his neck. “ _You got me a kitten_.”

"I got you a kitten," Darren repeats, hesitance disappearing into a full-blown grin, and he bounds forward, crowding up close. The kitten meows again, a squeaky, pathetic noise that tugs at Chris’s heart.

"Oh god, he’s so small." Chris feels like he’ll break it. "Does he have a name?"

“ _She_  does not have a name, no.” Darren’s voice is lowered and he reaches forward to pet her between her ears. “Although she’s allowed to make whatever life choices she wants.” Darren’s voice tips up into a coo as he talks to the cat, and  _that_  pulls at Chris’s heart, too. “I thought…” Darren looks up into his eyes, and it makes Chris’s breath catch, “Maybe we could name her. Together. So…”

"It would be  _our_  cat.” And that’s an idea. It shouldn’t feel like such a big deal, but it does. This wouldn’t just be Chris’s responsibility, it would be  _their_  responsibility. Shouldn’t they start with something simpler? Like a plant? Then again, Darren has practically adopted Brian already, so it wouldn’t—”Wait, what about Brian?” Chris’s eyes widen, and Darren’s face flickers from hope to disappointment to confusion.

"I locked him in the bedroom just for now. But don’t worry!" Darren rushes to say. "Him and the kitten have met."

"And she survived?" Chris is stunned.

"Hey, give our girl some credit. Plus, I don’t think Brian knew what to do with her. When he came to investigate, she bat him on the nose. I think it gave him some respect for the little thing."

While Chris’s brain is registering the fact that Brian didn’t murder the kitten, he’s also hung up on the way Darren said  _our girl_. It tightens some part of him that he doesn’t indulge often, the one that acts up when he sees Darren with children.

"We should name her," Chris finds himself saying, and Darren’s eyes widen, looking like he doesn’t quite believe what Chris is saying. "Together, we should… We should name her together."

She’s practically balanced on Chris’s shoulder now, and Darren’s hand settles over the kitten’s back as he stares warmly at Chris. It’s just a  _kitten_ , but it feels like so much more than that in this moment.

"All right."

*

“ _Minnie_ ,” Darren calls softly as he crawls around on his hands and knees in the living room, peeking under the coffee table and the couch and several chairs. He clicks his tongue. “ _Minnie_.”

Chris is sitting on the couch, attention torn between his game of Candy Crush and Darren.

"Where is she?" Darren frowns, and then looks up at Chris like he might have the answer.

"I don’t know, Dare. She’s tiny. But calling her by her  _actual_  name might help.” Chris says it with the same stern voice he always does, and so Darren gives him the same unamused look in return.

"I am."

"Her name is  _Minerva_.”

"I know, I helped pick it." Darren picks up a pillow that’s been randomly discarded to the floor, as if a kitten could possibly hide beneath it. "Minnie is a nickname."

Chris could argue that, but then he’d be a hypocrite. Brian has nicknames, too, after all, and it’s not like there’s a rule that Minerva can’t have any (and he can’t exactly think of any better ones). But it’s a sense of pride for him—they haven’t had her a _month_  yet, after all. Darren could at least wait a little bit before starting on nicknames.

"She’s probably hiding from you," Chris comments off-handedly, turning back to his phone, and he hears Darren make an offended-sounding noise. "All you want to do is play. Sometimes I think you have more energy than our five-month-old kitten."

There’s still that brief rush, that slight tingle, when he says  _our_  instead of  _my_.

"She likes playing!" Darren shoots back defensively, and he shuffles over on his knees until he can fold his arms on the couch cushions. "Besides, she’s not sleeping at night. We need to tucker her out or she’s going to keep waking us up at ungodly hours."

It hasn’t been fun. Apparently it’s normal kitten behavior, but that doesn’t make it easy. Minerva will run rampant around the house at random hours of the night, and then, as if she can somehow smell when Chris finally falls asleep, she starts meowing in the loudest, most pitiful, most heartbreaking, most  _annoying_  way. So Chris had done the only thing he could think to do—he looked it up on the internet. He very nearly took her straight to the vet, but there isn’t medication for kitten behavior problems and he’s not about to use any sort of tranquilizer on her.

Chris certainly never had to go through any of this with Brian—raising a kitten is  _a lot_ different than adopting a fully grown cat.

Thankfully, Darren has taken on the job of making sure Minerva gets all of her energy out, and Chris thinks it’s helping both of them (Darren and Minerva, that is) sleep better.

"I’m starting to worry, I don’t remember the last time I saw her. We should look for her." Darren’s voice picks up speed, and his eyes dart around the living room quickly. Chris watches him, a fond smile on his lips as warmth blooms in his heart. Chris bends down, threading his fingers through Darren’s hair, and tilts his head up just enough to kiss his forehead.

"You’re such a good kitty dad."

He’ll be such a good dad in general, too, but… Chris can’t think of that without feeling a mixture of panic and yearning.

"Mmm, so are you." Darren tilts his face up and Chris laughs slightly before giving him a real kiss.

"Come on, we have a kitten to find," Chris whispers against his lips, and Darren’s eyes flutter open before he gives a small nod.

They walk around the house, Chris calling, “Minerva!” and Darren cooing, “ _Minnie_.”

It takes them long enough to find her that Chris starts to feel a little panicked himself, but the flood of relief that he feels when they  _do_  find her is immediately overtaken by disbelief.

In one of the guest rooms, tucked on the inside of the curtain, Chris and Darren find Minnie. With Brian. He’s asleep, basking in the sun’s glow, and curled around Minnie’s tiny body.

"That is the cutest fucking thing I have ever seen," Darren whispers, fumbling behind him until he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket. Chris is glad that Darren has the foresight to take a picture, because he is strangely overwhelmed by the moment. He’s not sure what he expected when Minerva was introduced to the household, other than the displays of dominance and the fighting for attention that had occurred (and still does). But he had been afraid that Brian, being as distrusting as he is, would shun the new kitten or try to hurt her.

To see the exact opposite of that fills him with an overflowing amount of happiness. He presses his hand to his mouth, covering his smile while also holding himself together.

"I guess he’s watching out for her, huh?" Darren mutters, hands curving over Chris’s shoulders as they lean together, and Chris gives a small nod and a quiet, "Yeah."

"Should we wake them up?" Darren asks, and Chris shakes his head.

"Let them sleep." He swallows, composing himself. It’s a little ridiculous, how emotional this has made him, and he needs to pull himself together. Even if he knows Darren would get it, that Darren might poke a little fun at him but that he would ultimately understand.

"She’s going to wake us up tonight," Darren warns, but he doesn’t sound like he particularly wants to wake them up either.

"Oh well." Chris let’s the curtain fall gently around them again, and then turns to look at Darren and smiles. 

Darren smiles back, leaning in to press a kiss against Chris’s temple, and asks, “What do you want to do for dinner?”

And it occurs to Chris that this is his life. His house, his job, his boyfriend, his cats. His boyfriend that helps him make the bed (sometimes), who has so much stuff tucked around the house that he basically lives there, who Chris is about to  _plan dinner with_. And their cats, who they treat more like children than anything else.

 _My own little family_ , Chris thinks with an adoring smile, and then he takes Darren’s hand.

"I don’t know, let’s figure it out."

Together.


End file.
